


Resurrection

by Oh_Toasty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Haunted Stiles, M/M, Manipulative Peter, Mates, Resurrection, Threats, Unhealthy Relationships, anyway, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6164593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Toasty/pseuds/Oh_Toasty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two people Peter can target for help with his resurrection, Lydia and Stiles; he chooses Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resurrection

In the moment that he's throwing the Molotov, Stiles knows he's doing the right thing. Peter is a threat, needs to be taken out before he can kill more. Even if fire is a cruel way to kill him, it must be done and Stiles feels no regret. It's after the deed is done, when he starts to see Peter everywhere, that Stiles starts to doubt himself. 

It starts a week after Stiles helped Derek kill Peter, he sees the older man in his dreams. It starts out as nothing, Peter just sits staring, watching, waiting. It's alright bough, because Stiles can ignore it, unlike when Peter begins to appear when he's awake. 

The first time it happens, Stiles is driving and Peter walks out in front of his car. Slamming on the breaks instinctively, Stiles gasps as he recognizes who it is. Then, he steers himself of the road and tries to ignore Peter as he works his way through a panic attack. 

After that, Peter shows up more and more. Stiles can't have one dream with out seeing him, and most days the wolf appears at least once, but Stiles can deal with all this because at least Peter never talks. 

That's true until it isn't; Stiles is in class when Peter first speaks to him. The werewolf is watching Stiles do his homework when he opens his mouth, "You know, this whole silent treatment thing, it gets kind of boring. 

"Shut up," Stiles says. "It doesn't count as silent treatment when you're a figment of my imagination."

"Now, now, Stiles don't be dull." Peter instructs, "I know you can do better, just like you know I'm not dead."

"Do I?" Stiles challenges. "So far all I know is that I refuse to believe I'm being haunted."

"I can prove I'm real," Peter smirks, "That's the easy part."

"Is it?" Stiles asks and Peter grabs his wrist. 

He has to choke back whimper, it's the first time Peter's touched him and now, with that firm palm pressed to his wrist, he's doubting his conviction that this isn't real. 

"You can feel me," Peter smiles, drugging his claws down into Stile's flesh. "I know you can."

"Leave me alone," Stiles hissing tearing his wrist away and ignrong the tearing of his own flesh. "You aren't real, I'm imagining this!"

"You know that you're lying to yourself, but I'll allow it for now." Peter chuckles as he disappears. 

Flipping back on to his bed, Stiles holds his wrist close to his chest and stifles a sob as he continues to deny the Peter is real. 

He can only lie to himself for so long, and so the very next day Scott makes his precarious nest of denial fall apart.

"Stiles," Scott gasps grabbing his arm and flipping it over to present the scratch marks Peter left, "What happened?"

Stiles jolts to a halt as he realizes Scott seeing them means Peter is really there. 

"You mean the scratches?" Stiles asks eyes darting around in search of Peter. Upon seeing that they're alone he begins to ramble, "Look, Scott the scratches are from-"

Before Stiles can say another word Peter appears, claws poised over Scott's throat, ready to rip it open. 

"It's nothing actually," Stiles says ripping his arm away. "I stayed up latothe watching horror films and then I was jumpy enough to accidentally cut myself in the kitchen. You know the usual clumsy old me!"

"Are you sure," Scott questions and Stiles nods jerkily. "Cause you sounded really worried."

"Just my over active imagination," Stiles lies as he backs away. "Now I gotta go or I'll be late to class."

"Alright," Scott says his voice trailing off as Stiles practically runs away. 

He doesn't go to class, instead he hides out in the bathroom and turns on Peter. The wolf is leaning up against the door frame, blocking the exit Stiles notes, a small smirk on his face. 

"Really Stiles," Peter purrs. "Telling Scott, I expected better."

"Better," Stiles snorts, "What the hell does that mean? You thought I wouldn't tell Scott, then obviously you don't know me."

"No," Peter interjects, "I don't, but I plan to."

"Why, even if you are haunting me, you're dead, how could this help you?" Stiles wonders and he can't help the burning curiosity he feels. 

Peter hums, "Well, I don't plan to stay dead that'd be utterly boring."

"You want me to help resurrect you," Stiles breathes suddenly feeling numb. "Don't you?"

"So, you're intelligent after all, I was beginning to wonder," Peter says as he stands upright and begins to circle Stiles. 

"I'm not going to help you," Stiles tells him, standing his ground and looking Peter in the eyes. 

The wolf huffs, "You will, because you want your friends and father to be safe, and if I have to find someone else to help me, they won't be."

"Damn it," Stiles moans running a hand through his hair. "Fine, I'll help, but once you're back, you're going to leave, get out of town and leave us all alone."

"Of course," Peter purrs. "I wouldn't dream of it otherwise."

"What am I doing," Stiles asks himself. 

Peter bats his eyelids, "You're helping out a friend."

"We aren't friends!" Stiles objects, "You're just the crazy person who included me in his resurrection plans!"

"Not really," Peter argues, "My true back up plan was the banshee, Lydia. You were a wild card."

Stiles whole body goes stiff as he speaks, "Why are you bothering with me than?"

"Isn't is obvious?" Peter asks his mouth almost touching Stiles ear from his position behind him. "I like you more."

"But if she was your plan why can I see you?" Stiles wonders, "Why can't Lydia?"

Peter pulls away, stalking around in front of Stiles once again, "Lydia can see me, or have you not noticed that I haven't been in the classes you two share."

Stiles blushes, because no- he hadn't noticed, even as he tucks away the fact the Peter had avoided his first question. There was something the man didn't want him to know.

"Speaking of classes," Stiles says, "I should probably get to my own."

"Very well," Peter sniffs, "I'll see you later."

Stiles doesn't see Peter later, and as he lays down for bed, he can't be more grateful. Maybe, he thinks, he'll get a reprieve from the older man and can stop to think about all that he's learned. 

He doesn't get to, Peter is in his dreams again that night, like he has been in every dream Stiles has had since the alpha's death. 

"Peter," Stiles groans, "Why won't you leave me alone?"

Peter chuckles, "It isn't my fault I'm here, as I said earlier, you weren't a part of my back up plan."

"Then why are you here," Stiles asks turning his back on Peter and heading towards the edge of the woods. "In fact, why can I see you at all?"

"I don't know," Peter tells him, but Stiles can sense the lie.

His eyes narrow, "What are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing," Peter replies with false innocence. "Now, do be quiet and let me enjoy the silence."

"Go to your own dream and do that," Stiles tells him as he reaches his jeep and climbs in. 

Peter doesn't actually have to move on his own, he simply appears in the passengers seat. Leveling a glare at Stiles he responds, "Don't you think I would if I could. I'm dead, remember? Now, shut up."

"Why should I?" Stiles mutters to himself angrily as he pulls the jeep out. 

"I can always shut you up myself," Peter replies his voice become blow and sultry, "You can't use your mouth if it's full."

"Ew gross!" Stiles yelps, "Don't be a creeper wolf!"

After that, their encounters continue to occur at an increasingly frequent rate and slowly become more friendly. Stiles can't help it, that much time spent together he was bound to warm up to Peter. Especially when, two months in, he finally works up the courage to ask Peter about Laura.

"Laura?" Peter hums as he mulls over the question. "I really have no excuse, I was insane. The fire left me trapped in my own mind with nothing, but murderous thoughts. When I could move again, there was nothing in my mind except revenge- instead of seeing Laura I only saw Alpha power. So I killed her, and I didn't regret it until later, when the alpha power settled and rid me of my insanity."

Stiles nods despite the fact that he's laid out on his bed and Peter is on the floor, the creeper wolf can probably hear him.

"Are you implying that you're sane?" Stiles wonders. "I'm not sure I believe that, hell I'm not even sure I'm sane these days."

"Not sane," Peter corrects, "Just less insane. As for you, you're probably crazy if you're here talking to me."

"It's not like I have a choice," Stiles snorts. 

"Maybe," Peter admits, "But even if you did you'd let me stay, you like me."

"No, I don't." Stiles objects, but they both know it's a lie. 

It's three months later when Stiles finally knows magic enough to conduct the ritual. Peter is been switching between pouting that it's taking so long, muttering about how a banshee's instinct would've made this go faster, and telling Stiles that his progress is impressive. 

"Tonight?" Stiles asks as he checks his calendar to ensure that its a full moon.

Peter nods, "Yes, tonight is great. How will you get Derek there?"

"Wolfsbane," Stiles shrugs, "It won't affect you, you're dead and by the time you're coming back it'll be disappearing." 

Peter raises a brow as he spins about in Stiles office chair, "I don't know if the fact that you already have Wolfsbane is frightening or arousing."

Stile' lips twitch, "Good, I can work with that."

Throwing his head back, Peter shakes with laughter, "Oh Stiles, I will miss you."

The teen tenses, gaze snapping towards Peter, "Miss me, where are you going? I mean, I know we aren't going to see each other as often, but why will you miss me?"

Peter stares at Stiles as if he's lost his mind, "Do you really not remember our deal, you help me and I leave."

Shrugging, Stiles picks at his bedding as he avoids eye contact, "I assumed it was void, I mean I'm helping you, because I want to now. You aren't forcing me to help."

"Now, now Stiles if you want me to stay you only need to ask," Peter murmurs throwing a lecherous towards Stiles. 

What he gets in return of his words is a pillow to his face and Stiles laughing "Fuck off."

"Fine," the wolf sniffs as he stands up, "I'll see you later, you know when you actually bring me back to life."

"Shut up," Stiles demands even as Peter disappears. 

They see each other later that night, when Stiles blows Wolfsbane in Derek's face and drags him to the old Hale house. He places the younger Hale's arm so that it's resting against Peter. Then, he begins the ritual, squatting down in front of Peter's burnt body and chanting."

"Stiles," A voice calls out from the edge of the woods surrounding the hale house, right as the last words leave his mouth. "Why are you doing, what's wrong with Derek?"

"I needed him," Stiles answers standing up and turning to face Scott who has almost reached him. "I don't have any other alphas."

Scott isn't listening to him anymore, instead he's staring at the space right behind Stiles, "Peter!"

Stiles head snaps around so that he can see the resurrected man. His eyes widen as he takes in the form before him. 

"Peter," he mutters his own utterance of the name sounding awe filled and admiring the opposite of Scott's own. 

"Stiles," Scott says voice filled with desperation, "Why are you helping him?"

Blinking, Stiles wonders why he really cares, they haven't been close in a long time, what with Stiles pulling away as soon as he started seeing Peter. Scott doesn't really care, he just doesn't want Peter around. 

"Why wouldn't I help him," Stiles asks. "And before you bring it up, I know he manipulated me, otherwise I never would've gotten involved. But things change, and now I'm helping Peter because I like him."

"We have bonded these last few months," Peter drawls and Stiles has to put effort into not flushing at the fact that the werewolf's naked body is pressed against his own. 

From the look Peter gives him, Stiles figures he doesn't fully hide how he feels about the whole thing. Not that it matters, Scott is over there yammering about something and drawing Peter's attention. 

"Stiles, you couldn't help it, but it's over now. Come over here, I'll protect you from Peter." 

"I don't need to be protected. You of all people should know that, but you don't, in fact these days Peter knows me better than you now." Rants Stiles his voice filled with rage, "Stop assuming you know things about me."

"Fine," Scott spits, preparing to turn on his heel and walk away. "Good luck not getting killed!"

"I must admit," Peter says quietly later that night when they're curled in Stiles' bed, "I wasn't expecting you to give up Scott's friendship."

The younger man shrugs as he traces a pattern on Peter's chest, "It wasn't for you it was for me, Scott can't protect me no matter what he says. He'll always be to focused on Allison or Isaac."

"He doesn't need to protect you," Peter replies stressing the pronoun, "I'll do it."

"Of course you will," Stiles retorts. "We're mates, it's your job."

Tensing, Peter peers over at him, "What makes you think that?" 

"I'm not an idiot," Stiles snorts. "I can do research. I started it as soon as I noticed you wouldn't tell me why I could see you. It was the only explanation as to why you'd come to me for help when you targeted Lydia."

Peter nuzzles into his neck," Maybe I just came to you because you're smart enough to figure things out."

"Just shut up and kiss me!" Stiles demands and Peter willingly obeys.


End file.
